Valentine Bites
by MuseDePandora
Summary: A series of drabbles written for the Valentine's Day theme. Pairings: Molly/Moriarty, Sherlock/John, Clara/Harry, Mycroft/not!Anthea, Mrs. Hudson/Skull
1. Dark Chocolate

**Valentine Bites  
**

by MuseDePandora

Disclaimer: BBC's Sherlock belongs to various persons and corporations that are not me or associated with me. This piece of fanfiction is written with the admiration and respect for the original work. I claim no ownership of the show, Sherlock, or its accouterments. No profit is made from this material, now or in the future.

Rating: K, suitable for most audiences

Summary: A series of drabbles written for the Valentine's Day theme. Pairings: Molly/Moriarty, Sherlock/John, Clara/Harry, Mycroft/not!Anthea, Mrs. Hudson/Skull

Prompt: I was prodded by Armity to write drabbles for BBC's Sherlock for Valentine's Day.

Thanks to Armity for beta-read.

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**Dark Chocolate**

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Molly stares at the heart-shaped box on the cadaver's chest.

It's a red, frilly thing with satin bow. Similar to valentines past with nice boys. This wasn't from a nice boy. After all: cadaver.

A year since Molly kissed Jim from IT.

Six months since Moriarty kissed Molly.

She doesn't know whether he loves her or is going to kill her. Knowing him, probably both. Molly opens the box, reads the card inside.

'Poison. Maybe. No. Yes. What do you think?'

She thinks they all look delicious. Molly closes her eyes, picks the one that feels right.

It's heaven.


	2. Raspberry Syrup

Disclaimer: BBC's Sherlock belongs to various persons and corporations that are not me or associated with me. This piece of fanfiction is written with the admiration and respect for the original work. I claim no ownership of the show, Sherlock, or its accouterments. No profit is made from this material, now or in the future.

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**Raspberry Syrup**

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In John's defense, he hadn't slept, ate, or sat down properly for days. The case had been bloody awful. The way Sherlock solved it . . . Just. Genius.

So it wasn't until dessert arrived, raspberry syrup looped into a heart, that he realized.

"Sherlock?"

"Mm." Sherlock wasn't eating, too busy reliving his triumph.

"It's Valentine's day."

Sherlock paused, taking in the restaurant. "Ah."

"I think you said you'd rather jump in the Thames than take me out on Valentine's."

"Doesn't count."

"The raspberry syrup's a heart."

Sherlock glanced at it and rose to his feet.

"Where're you going?" John asked.

"The Thames."


	3. Liquor

Disclaimer: BBC's Sherlock belongs to various persons and corporations that are not me or associated with me. This piece of fanfiction is written with the admiration and respect for the original work. I claim no ownership of the show, Sherlock, or its accouterments. No profit is made from this material, now or in the future.

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**Liquor**

* * *

It isn't that Harry doesn't love Clara enough. It's just that Harry hates herself too much.

Not for the drinking, that's her way of protecting people. She hates herself because of voices in her head. It's not from the outside; she checked. No, it's all inside. Her voice. Her choice. What terrible things she wants to do.

She just wants to yell. No, she wants to hurt people. Like her boss. Like her brother.

Like her wife.

It'd be so easy to kill them all. She tells herself.

"Happy Valentine's Day," she salutes the empty room and takes another drink.


	4. Apple Tarte

Disclaimer: BBC's Sherlock belongs to various persons and corporations that are not me or associated with me. This piece of fanfiction is written with the admiration and respect for the original work. I claim no ownership of the show, Sherlock, or its accouterments. No profit is made from this material, now or in the future.

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**Apple Tarte**

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She is Amanda today. Meaning: Beloved.

"Such a romantic, my dear," he said that morning when informed.

They had lunch in Paris. He let her play Tetris with their national defense grid. She rewarded him by sharing her apple tarte.

Dinner was Chinese in the car on Downing Street. She guessed his fortune. He called her a cheat and complimented her subterfuge. When he returned from meeting with the Prime Minister, she returned the compliment.

With one minute left to spare in the day, he reached out and took her hand.

"Such a romantic, my dear," she teased. Mycroft smiled.


	5. Jammy Dodgers

Disclaimer: BBC's Sherlock belongs to various persons and corporations that are not me or associated with me. This piece of fanfiction is written with the admiration and respect for the original work. I claim no ownership of the show, Sherlock, or its accouterments. No profit is made from this material, now or in the future.

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**Jammy Dodgers**

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Mrs. Hudson still liked to have tea with her husband on holidays. Even if he was dead.

"You'll never guess!" she told the skull sitting by the teapot on a heart-shaped doiley. "I actually rented out 221C!" She waited for his reply. "Oh, you're just grumpy that you were wrong. Said it'd never happen; no one could rent that basement out. Said I could never do anything. Of course, you also said that you were smarter than Sherlock Holmes. Well, you were wrong about a lot of things, weren't you dear?"

She smiled and nodded her head, sipped her tea.

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FIN

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If you enjoyed the piece, or if you didn't, please take the time to leave me a review. No matter how short, I really appreciate the feedback. Thanks.


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